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Griffin & destiny


Nick Griffin, former BNP leader, lost his left eye when a cartridge thrown into a bonfire exploded.


Whether he knows it or not, that makes him an avatar of Odin (the one-eyed god).


He talks about Christianity a lot, but whether he likes it or not that is what he is.


The cosmos made its will apparent with this act.


My first girlfriend voted for the BNP—at the time I was a Marxist.


You might think that made it a fiery relationship, but it was not so.


She looked somewhat like Éowyn, though not as attractive by far.


Today, I would say, in esoteric terms, in Jungian terms, that she was what was latent in me—the woman is the mirror of the soul.


It’s enantiodromia—the “tendency for the opposite to emerge from the unconscious in the course of time”.


Yet I still do not believe in anything, I have no interest in being a follower of Hitler—or a nationalist.


I did not desire to speak to Rudolf Hess on the astral plane.


I have no beliefs at all—no desires.


It just seems that there is some force that compels me to do the things I do, and I cannot help it—I must obey, I must obey the force to the end.


I do not know where it leads me, only that it compels me to go.


And yet it feels like what I have always known, deep within me, begins to uncoil.


Just as I would say, said for years, would still say, that I have no interest in the esoteric, in alchemy, in magic, in Jung—and yet, at my most rational, there was always a voice underneath that said “alchemy, esoteric, Jung”.


Just as there was a voice that said, “Hitler was right—everything is controlled by the Jews.”


I just removed control—that is all.


Let us say, when I went to my first university, I met a girl from the Pakistani elite—and she insisted that I read the book The Alchemist, which I thought was foolish, but I read it anyway.


And then it turned out that her relatives had murdered the relatives of a former comrade in the Communist Party—in the usual inter-elite blood feud that characterises Pakistan, so that they knew of each other, as tribal enemies.


This is synchronicity—this was a tip from Brazil, a message you might say, that I would not take up until years and years later.


Because the woman sees what is latent within you, what you really are (alchemist).


Cromwell: “No one rises so high as he who knows not whither he is going.”


I just follow the voice of command—follow it to the end.

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